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While this watering hole is technically located inside the Edison Hotel, a separate entrance and a veneer of sleaze sets it a world apart from your classic martini-doling hotel bar: Instead it's one of the few remaining destinations near Times Square where a middle-aged lush from Dubuque can go to drown his sorrows in cheap liquor and plastic bowls of pretzels. Undeterred by the faint odor of stale beer and sweat that permeates the room, refugees from the nearby razzle dazzle cram together at the too-close tables and stools, paying little mind to the decaying prints on the walls and the piano player grinding out "American Pie" for the zillionth time on the cordoned-off corner stage. Although some may find the light wood-paneled space delightfully kitschy and the bartender's sartorial efforts amusingly incongruous, the fannypack-packing patrons don't seem to be in on the joke while they pour over maps or gab about The Producers. — David S. Hirschman